


To Thine Own Self Be True

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Red Cap (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fear of Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: Between disappointing his career Army father and being afraid to come Out, Giles is desperately unhappy.  He visits a gay bar and his life changes after he runs into someone he would never have expected to see there.German phrase/name translations in End Notes.





	To Thine Own Self Be True

 

It was a Friday like dozens of other Fridays. Like a long line of similar gateways to dreary weekends where he went nowhere and saw no one, sequestered in his flat listening to music. Sometimes, Giles Vicary drove out into the countryside and thought back on the days he’d taken the rolling green hills and gentle valleys of home for granted. The home he often felt as if he couldn’t go back to now; he had nowhere else except SIB.

He had disappointed his father and grandfather for not making it into the Guards. He wasn’t terribly sorry he hadn’t gotten in - he liked his work in SIB very much, and had begun to feel like he was making a genuine contribution, even if he was still odd man out among the team.

It was something new, something different, that he was good at. He didn’t think his father, though, would ever see it that way. Every time his father visited the base or Giles went home to England, the issue of his not being a ‘real soldier’ reared its head. So, at a point he didn’t consciously remember, he stopped going home to England on his leaves. He could have just visited with his mother and younger siblings, but he also felt like he was living a lie, and didn’t know how to deal with that either.

He had no friends outside of work; really, he had no friends at all. He got on with his teammates as far as his job, but he was rather awkward within the group. The quiet loner that no one tried very hard to befriend because he was an officer and they were not. No one wanted to chance it. And no one knew the person he was when he felt relaxed in company. It had been so long since he’d felt like that, he’d forgotten what it was like.

He had been looking at yet another weekend alone, which had spurred him into deciding to come to Schöneburg, something he hadn’t done for almost a year. He’d gone a few times when he was first posted, but had quickly realized that, for him, it was a bad idea.

Young and lonely, doing the classified work he sometimes did, he knew he was ripe for blackmail. Leaving out whether or not his co-workers cared, the Army did not yet really welcome gay members. Oh, they said they did, now, but practice was another thing, he’d found. The regulations had only been changed four years ago, after all. And besides, he wasn’t Out to anyone - not to his co-workers and certainly not to his family. So he stayed away from temptation. But he was only 25 years old, and it was very difficult sometimes.

As he parked his car and headed towards what seemed like a busy establishment, he thought about why he’d chosen to go against his better judgment. He felt so alien among his co-workers that he just wanted someone to talk to. A random friendly face who wouldn’t be judging him. He hadn’t thought past that.

He ordered a drink at the bar and stood to drink it, too uncertain to meet anyone’s eye just yet. But he wasn’t going to meet anyone for any reason if he didn’t loosen up a bit, he realized, so he ordered a second drink and downed it just as quickly as the first. As he put the empty glass down, he made himself look around the room - and froze.

Standing at the other end of the bar was their German police liaison, Thomas Strauss. The man had seen him, and was heading his way. Of all the horrible luck. Giles’s palms went so clammy he couldn’t pick up the new drink just placed in front of him for fear it would drop out of his hand.

“Mister Vicary, is it?”

“Yes. Giles Vicary, Detective Strauss.” His throat was suddenly so dry he was surprised the words came out. The man gazed at him keenly, taking in his appearance and his nerves. Giles felt himself go crimson, not helped by the amount of alcohol he’d consumed in so a short time.

“It is difficult to talk, standing here - let’s sit,” Strauss suggested smoothly, steering Giles by the elbow to a table in the corner, out of the flow of traffic.

Giles stared at his drink, unsure whether to quickly toss it down again and make an excuse and run, or stay.

“You have nothing to fear from me. Relax,” Strauss reassured him.

“ _Relax_?” This time the word came out as more of a squeak.

“You are not doing anything illegal, even if you accompanied one of these men home. Do you imagine that I will inform your co-workers? I have no reason to do that.”

Giles dared a look at Strauss. His eyes were kind, and his gaze seemed honest as far as he could judge. “You’re here on a case.” He didn’t state it as a question. Strauss gave a slight grimace in sudden understanding of Giles’s extreme nervousness.

“No, Mister Vicary, I am not here on a case. I am a customer, just as you are.”

Giles’s eyes widened.

“But - “

“Yes?”

Giles tried hard to regain some control.

“I’m sorry, Herr Strauss. It’s just…coming here is not something I do often. Because of my job. England is a bit…behind Germany in its more liberal views on…on being…gay. It would not be looked on with favor by my superiors or my fellow team members.” He stumbled over the words, embarrassed at yet again having to make excuses to someone just for being himself.

“I see you have been conditioned to believe that, and so even if it may not be true, you are afraid to find out. Believe me, I understand. I have been in your shoes, as the expression says. So, it took courage, born of desperation, for you to come here tonight.” Strauss raised his beer slightly with a smile, in a small salute.

“Courage is a quality I’m apparently felt to lack,” Giles sighed, “along with ‘The Right Stuff’, to quote the Americans.” Although more alcohol was tempting, he had the feeling it might not be the best idea if this conversation continued.

The young man sitting with him, Thomas Strauss reflected, was so full of insecurity, feelings of worthlessness, and self-pity that he could be viewed as merely ridiculous. But Thomas saw something else. He saw himself, only slightly younger than Vicary, scared and alone, feeling as if he had not a friend in the world. He saw someone who needed what he had been given, years ago - a map and a guidebook to a chance at life beyond the fear and loathing he had accepted as his due.

“I do not believe that, and I think deep inside you do not believe it either. But this is not the time or the place for such conversations, eh? I think we should meet on Friday nights, you and I, just to talk and have a few drinks and unwind. Not, perhaps, here in this bar, but I can suggest others quieter, where one is able to have a meal, and conversation. It would be pleasant for you to have some company, I think. You agree, Mister Vicary?”

Strauss was pushing just a little, pointedly waiting for an answer. Was this just a different kind of blackmail? Was he expected to have sex with Strauss, Giles wondered. Regardless, there was something about the offer - and about Strauss - that made it difficult to turn him down. He knew he wanted the talk, and the ear and the company, whatever else might come with it. 

“Agreed. Yes. And…my name is Giles,” he stammered, still feeling like a bumbling oaf. He didn’t know why Strauss would want to bother with him. Yet, there was something about the man he liked.

“Thomas,” Strauss returned with a smile.

“Thank you,” Giles said softly, many unspoken questions behind his big brown eyes.

“We can have dinner, or not. We can go to a club, or to my apartment to talk if you want, or to yours. You can say anything to me - or nothing if you don’t want to talk, that’s all right. If you have too much to drink you can sleep on my sofa. You need not be afraid of me, Giles,” Strauss told him. “There are no strings, and I will not betray your confidences to anyone.”

“But - why? I barely know you.”

“Because someone once did the same for me. Because there’s no reason for you to be ashamed or afraid, and I hope you will see that one day,” Strauss told him. _And because you are charming, and beautiful, and you have no idea that you are._

Giles looked down at his hands, clutching his drink. “It’s not just being gay,” he confessed. “I’m sort of a mess anyway.”

“That I can see also,” Strauss teased lightly, reaching out to squeeze Giles’s elbow. He was rewarded with a shy smile.

“And now, I think we must go somewhere and eat, or you will not be fit to drive,” the detective suggested.

“All right,” Giles agreed, “only - I’m not very hungry.” Strauss gave him a ‘we’ll see about that’ tut, and steered him out the door.

The restaurant was fairly dark and quiet, different from the meat market energy of the clubs, which always made him uncomfortable. The clubs were not Giles at all, but this place was; something Thomas seemed to know about him without being told. Moreover the food was good, and Giles found himself both eating more than he’d imagined possible and talking more than he’d intended to. Thomas Strauss had a calm, non-judging manner and he listened well; he really _listened_ to Giles, something his family hadn’t for almost as long as he could remember.

They ate, and had after-dinner cognac and coffee and some light, rather more cheerful conversation then. It was after midnight when Giles realized he’d have to decide whether to drive home to his flat, or ask to stay with Thomas. He wanted to go home because he had a great deal to think about. True to his word, Strauss had not tried to change his mind, but had only made sure he was fit to drive, and exchanged phone numbers with him.

There was much that could go wrong in such a relationship, but Giles had begun to suspect he was close to a kind of breaking point, so he might have less to lose at that. He had never had anyone he could really talk to about his life, his feelings and his problems since he’d been posted here, and besides wanting that, he knew he needed it.

 

                                                                             ***

 

Bred and tuned to be suspicious of everyone and everything, especially since he’d been posted, it took weeks for Giles to relax enough around Strauss to begin to accept him at face value and start to trust him and to really share himself. But once he did, it was if the gates of a dam had burst and it all began to come pouring out. He realized that on the night they’d met, he’d been close to panic about where his life could go, and he hadn’t had any idea how to try and put things right in his world. Thomas was a steadying, calming influence.

Giles spoke about his somewhat lonely childhood, feeling set apart as the eldest son destined for a successful military career while his younger brother and sister were encouraged to follow their interests. The increased scrutiny by his father after his parents’ divorce, zeroing in on all his shortcomings. Missing his mother terribly but rarely being able to see her; his mother and siblings lived in London, and he living with his father when he wasn’t at school. His emotional support vanished overnight. Loving his father, but being afraid of continually disappointing him and his grandfather. Fearing he would no longer be loved or valued if they knew that he was happier not following in their footsteps, and was gay besides.

He often felt inept as he learned the ropes at SIB, where he was in no way coddled by the others on his team. If Sar’ Major Burns might occasionally cut him some slack because of his father, and because he seemed to know that Giles really was trying hard to learn, few others did. He also felt as if he might never be wholly accepted there due to his commissioned rank, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about that.

Giles had always to keep that stiff upper lip the British prided themselves on, Strauss knew, and especially so for the son and grandson of career army officers. Anything otherwise would be seen as a weakness, a lack of character. Giles’s confidences pained Strauss. Did Giles’s family know, or care, that he felt so alone and such a failure? That the doubts and fears they had placed in his mind had the power to destroy him?

By now, the pull of Thomas’s caring was strong. Giles felt almost cheerful, and relaxed in his company. More than that, he felt safe, and valued for himself.

His teammates had begun to notice an increase in his self confidence and his less repressed, more relaxed affect, and had begun probing to find out if he had a girlfriend. That he was extra-sensitive about this only served to convince them it was true. This came to a head when there was a staff party and everyone expected Giles to bring “her” so they could meet her. Things did not go well when he showed up alone. They felt he either didn’t trust them, or that he and his girl were too good for their gathering. Their coldness to his single presence hurt, very much. So much that Giles left early and made a hurried call to Thomas.

When he arrived at Thomas’s flat he was promptly given a drink and allowed to vent his unhappiness and frustration. When he had quieted, Thomas regarded him with sadness, and spoke gently.

“You couldn’t be honest with them. They knew you were hiding something, if they only thought they knew what that something was. They were angry that you did not trust them, and they were right to be angry and hurt, Giles,” Thomas chided him gently. You cannot hide from them, or yourself, forever. You are all supposed to be a team. If you don’t trust them enough, who would you trust?” he asked.

“You,” Giles whispered.

“I thank you for that,” Strauss replied with a smile, laying a hand briefly on Giles’s shoulder. “But it isn’t enough now. You are coming to the time where you will have to make some decisions, and I know you can make them. Not to please me, or to do the right thing or the brave thing, but to please _yourself_. You must start deciding what will make Giles happy, because you need to live your life, the life that will make _you_ happy, not the life that makes others happy.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of course you are. Nothing that is important can be accomplished without some fear or pain. But the courage you’re certain you don’t possess will see you through. I don’t doubt that. The next time there is a party, tell me and I will go with you - or if you go alone, tell them why,” Strauss urged. “If they are truly your friends, they deserve to know.”

“But if they’re not, and it changes things, I’ve lost it all, Thomas - my career and my father and everything I care about. Everything,” Giles moaned softly.

“But you will have been honest, and you will be able to hold your head up as a man, who accepts the consequences of his actions. Your own man and no one else’s. One who has the security of knowing who he is, Giles, and not feeling ashamed of it. For self-respect.”

“I can hardly imagine what that kind of security would be like,” Giles responded somewhat bitterly.

“I’m sorry for that.”

Strauss hurt for him, but he couldn’t do these things _for_ him. It was getting to be time to stand up and be counted, but not tonight. He let Giles anesthetize himself with drink, then quietly took off his shoes and tucked him up on the sofa, covering him with a blanket. Tonight, he was still an unhappy, frightened young man standing at the edge of a cliff and being dared to jump. Strauss wasn’t going to push him, that wouldn’t accomplish anything positive.

The more he learned of Giles, the more Strauss fell in love with him.

 

                                                                         ***

 

Scarcely a month later, Giles was in hospital with a somewhat different outlook on life. Out in the field investigating a theft of grenades, a charge that wasn’t supposed to be there had been triggered when he’d trod on a wire that wasn’t supposed to be there either. An explosive that was not as harmless as it was intended to be had landed him in a sterile white room where he felt no comfort. He knew he was lucky; he could have been killed. But he didn’t feel lucky, only terribly alone.

He hadn’t thought Thomas would even know he’d been injured at first, but he had known somehow, and he’d come to visit when the pain was still pretty bad even with drugs. He sat beside Giles, speaking in a low, soothing voice, holding his hand to get through the worst.

Sgt McDonough had come to visit him once when Thomas had been there. Thomas let go of his hand as soon as he saw her, but Giles didn’t let go. He was so miserable, he never let go of Thomas’s hand the entire time she was there, and he didn’t know or care whether she saw or not; he just wanted Thomas there with him, and not to leave because she was there. When Jo had gone Thomas stayed on, covering Giles’s hand with both of his, pressing his lips lightly to the pale fingers. Giles fell asleep feeling cared about, making the pain bearable.

Because he could do nothing else trapped in bed as he was, Giles thought about everything Thomas had said to him, from the beginning to the aftermath of the disastrous party. If he’d been killed in the explosion, his life would have just been a waste, he realized, living for the desires and expectations of others. Now that he’d almost lost it, he was beginning to want to live his own life on his own terms.

Five days later he discharged himself from the hospital, knowing there would be repercussions from Sar’ Major Burns and surprised that he didn’t worry about that perhaps as much as he might. He went to his flat and made phone calls to England. He was on recovery leave for a month, and he intended to put the time to good use. He then packed a bag and drove to Thomas’s flat.

Thomas had at first feigned anger at his leaving the hospital before time, but Giles knew he wasn’t angry, only worried. Thomas was also somewhat at a loss as to what to do with him.

“Until your plane leaves, you will stay here and _rest_ , understand? You will not be in the hospital, but you _will_ be, yes? Otherwise I’ll take you back there myself, I swear it,” Thomas had told him. Feeling weaker and in more pain than he’d anticipated, Giles agreed readily. Lying around and sleeping here was much better than trying to do it in hospital.

The first night he’d been there, Giles went to put on the sweats he’d brought. He found he hadn’t quite the dexterity to completely undress and then dress himself while handicapped by pain and bandages, so, shamefaced, he’d had to ask Thomas to help him.

When Strauss saw the extent of his injuries and realized what it must have taken for Giles to walk out of the hospital, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more - drive him back there or hug him. The restraint he’d kept over the months, never touching Giles in the way he wanted to, never telling him how he felt, was stretched to the breaking point.

This was the most intimate they’d been since they’d met in Schöneburg. True to his early promise, Thomas never indicated that he took a physical relationship with Giles for granted, and he’d never made any advance in that regard. He had little idea up to now what was in Giles’s mind about him.

Giles, starved of physical affection, hoped that Thomas would make the first move because he wasn’t sure he was brave enough yet. He knew that he very much wanted to make love with this kind, generous man whom he’d definitely become attracted to. He had probably been attracted to Thomas from the start, he reflected, which is why he’d agreed to the Friday evenings.

Strauss believed that Giles wanted a degree of closeness. The nature of the closeness, however, he wasn’t sure of - nor was he sure that he could keep things platonic if Giles was in his arms. Still, in his current condition there was no question of Giles sleeping on the couch, so he came into bed with Strauss.

Since most of his still-painful and not yet healed injuries involved his legs, it wasn’t too difficult to position his upper body against Thomas. Giles hesitatingly snuggled against him.

“Good? You are comfortable?” Strauss asked softly.

“Yes, very.” There was a dreamy tone in Giles voice which Strauss hadn’t heard before. He sounded wistful.

“You have not done this before - slept through the night with another man in bed?” he asked, suddenly needing to know more about Giles’s lovers, if there had been lovers.

“No. Am I doing something wrong?”

Strauss’s heart broke then. “ _Mein Gott,_ ” he groaned. “No, _liebe_ Giles, nothing wrong at all. You are safe now.”

He couldn’t bear that this sweet, sensitive man had never felt the loving closeness that a relationship could provide, or that the first thing he wondered in a new situation was what he had done that was ‘wrong.’ Had he never been praised for anything?

Ignoring his earlier worries because now he couldn’t _not_ do this, Strauss followed his instincts, petting Giles’s hair, stroking a shoulder, dropping soft kisses on his forehead and nose, making slow, soothing circles over his back. Soft noises of contentment and the warm body in his arms were Strauss’s reward as Giles drifted off.

The next morning, Thomas insisted on checking Giles’s stitches and dressings to look for any signs he wasn’t healing according to plan, and found none. He brought a glass of water and a cup of coffee to the bedside and waited while Giles took both an antibiotic and something for pain. Before he left, he bent down to kiss Giles on the lips for the first time. The response was enthusiastic, if a bit muddled from sleepiness, and the smile on Giles’ lips was reflected in his eyes. It was a good start to the day.

Giles was half asleep on the sofa when he heard a firm knock at the door. He wasn’t at all sure he should answer it, but he decided he didn’t want to appear to be hiding from anyone, including Thomas’s neighbors, so he limped to the door and opened it. He was surprised to see Jo McDonough.

“Sir? I only wanted to see you’re all right, sir. I know it’s not appropriate for me to come, but we were worried about you since you left hospital. I just wanted to be able to tell them you’re all right.”

Giles opened the door and ushered her inside. He indicated a chair, and limped his way back to the sofa. He wondered why she’d come here, to Thomas’s flat. His memories of the day she’d come to the hospital were hazy from effects of the drugs they’d given him. Perhaps she’d asked Thomas. He found that the thought no longer alarmed him as it once would have.

“Haven’t got used to navigating yet,” he apologized. “May I offer you some coffee?”

“If you don’t need to make it, and you stay where you are - sir,” she agreed.

“I believe the pot is still holding warm in the kitchen.” Jo nodded and went into the kitchen, returning with the coffee.

“Is Sar’ Major Burns very angry with me?” Giles asked her quietly. She smiled at him.

“I wouldn’t say ‘very’, sir. But I think he’s worried. We all are. It’s not…not like you. Sir,” she added awkwardly. “Wanted to be sure you weren’t on your own, trying to cope. I don’t mean…none of us means to be nosy, sir.” A bit of pink appeared in her cheeks.

“No,” Giles told her with a small smile, “not on my own, sergeant. But thank you for asking. I do appreciate it. I’m flying home tomorrow - some family business I need to take care of before I return to work.”

Jo nodded, and smiled encouragingly. “Good luck, sir. Do you need anything? Can we…can I bring you anything?”

“Thank you, sergeant, and no, thank you. I’m being looked after.”

Jo rose to go, all too aware it was not her place to be checking up on an officer, even if she did have a soft spot for Mr. Vicary. She had been a little surprised how much all the team had been concerned for him, though, and she found herself wishing she could tell him. That, however, would be stretching her luck and Burns’s tacit permission to visit Mr. Vicary.

“I’m glad, sir.” She looked as if she meant it. “Don’t get up, I’ll let myself out,” she assured him. She stood over him for a moment, wrestling with something, and then dropped a light kiss on his forehead before leaving.

Giles stared at the door, smiling at the kiss and wondering what she thought. Another time, she’d stepped out of bounds with him to offer him sympathy about Tracy Walters. Poor man must not know what he wants, is what Giles suspected she must think. Except that was wrong - he had always known what he wanted, he’d just never imagined he could have it.

In the late afternoon, Thomas came home to take Giles to his flat for a few more things, but he insisted that Giles keep his bag light. He also encouraged him to bring the stick the hospital had given him to help him get around until he could put full weight on both legs. Giles told him about Jo’s visit.

“Were you upset that she came here?” Thomas asked him. Sgt McDonough had indeed asked him if he knew where Giles was, when it was obvious he wasn’t staying at his own flat.

“A bit surprised. Upset? I’m too tired to worry about everything any more. I didn’t mind, no. Jo might make things easier. There’s only just so much I’m up for all at once,” Giles sighed. “And it was nice that she wanted to come.”

“Do you believe she knows?”

“She saw us together in hospital. There’s only one bedroom, and I wasn’t sleeping on the sofa. She’ll come to her own conclusions. Do you mind?”

“Who I love does not define me as a person, _liebe_ Giles. I have no reason to fear who knows or who doesn’t know.”

“I wish I could believe that of myself.”

“You will - and perhaps sooner than you think.”

It would never have been what he wanted to happen, Strauss thought, but Giles’s accident and the scare it gave him had allowed him to see his life in a different light. It might have taken him months to come to similar conclusions otherwise.

After dinner they sat on the sofa, Giles’s right leg propped slightly bent on a pillow on the coffee table. They sat at first with shoulders touching, but Giles soon rested his head on Thomas’s shoulder

“You will see your family?” Strauss asked.

“I’m going to try. My mother, yes. My sister and brother maybe,” Giles replied. “My father - I don’t know. I don’t know, Thomas,” he added softly. Thomas felt a shudder go through him.

“Are you afraid of him?”

“No,” Giles responded quickly. “Not in the physical sense. I love him, and I want him to be proud of me. I want to please him. Nothing I tell him is going to please him,” he sighed.

“Do you doubt he loves you?”

“I don’t know. No. Whether he does or he doesn’t, parental expectations can be difficult and complicated,” Giles sighed. “All I can do is try.”

“That you will try is the most important thing. That you want for yourself badly enough to do this, I’m proud of you, whether your father is or not,” Strauss told him.

He tipped Giles’s head up, and leaned over to press his lips firmly against the warm mouth. Giles returned the kiss, opening his mouth and gently teasing with the tip of his tongue. Sweet as honey and hot as flame, Thomas thought, a warmth kindling in his belly. Giles moaned and sighed into his mouth, making quiet little animal-noises.

“I like kissing,” he confessed in a whisper, nipping at Thomas’ lower lip, sliding his tongue in and out of Thomas’s mouth, teasing again.

“ _Gott_ ,” Thomas groaned, weak against the sweet persistence. “Giles, you are still injured and you have an early plane to catch,” he warned, knowing that whatever Giles wanted would happen anyway. There was no way he could or would say no tonight.

“So, I’ll put up with a little discomfort. It’s past time, Thomas, for you to know how I feel about you.” Giles’s voice was low and intimate. “And how much I want to be with you, in the way I hope you want to be with me.”

“ _Du kleine Affe_ ,” Thomas chuckled affectionately, shaking his head in mock dismay, “that you would doubt it.” He kissed Giles again and it turned sloppy and noisy, desperate. It might be comical, except that it wasn’t. Each of them communicated in those rapidly deepening, raw kisses just how much, and in exactly what way, they wanted each other.

“Does that answer your question?” Thomas asked when they finally broke apart, both panting.

“Yes, I rather think it does.” The smile on Giles’s face was pure happiness. He moved in again as soon as he could breathe, cupping Thomas’s face with slender fingers, kissing and sucking at his lips, the corner of his mouth, and down his jaw. He unbuttoned a couple of buttons of Thomas’s shirt and kissed and sucked at the base of his throat and over his collarbone, slipping a hand inside his shirt to caress the broad chest.

Thomas allowed a satisfied sigh and a husky purr or two to escape from his throat, permitting himself to feel both happiness and arousal at Giles’s touch. A hot palm ground over his nipple, and Thomas moaned against Giles’s open mouth.

Giles, wanting more, sat up and then stood for a moment, awkwardly balancing. With an audible hiss of pain, he straddled Thomas’s lap so they were groin to groin, and each could feel the other’s increasing hardness.

“Giles - “

“I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but you, and this.” The huskiness of his voice made Thomas even harder.

Giles moved against him, slowly at first and mindful of the weight borne on his leg. Thomas placed his hands on Giles’s hips, both to hold onto and to encourage him, and to help take some of the weight off his legs.

Giles let his head drop so that his forehead touched Thomas’s. With each rocking together of their clothed genitals, Giles grunted softly in pleasured chuffs of lust that Thomas found very endearing, not to mention sexy as hell. After several minutes of this mutual arousal, however, he reluctantly put a hand on Giles’s chest to stop him.

“ _Sußer liebe_ , we will go to the bed now,” he announced firmly, worried about Giles’s healing injuries. He put an arm around Giles to hold him where he was, and pushed up from the sofa with the other arm. Once he stood up, he hitched Giles’s legs around him.

“Arms around my neck,” he directed. He was enough taller than Giles that carrying him this way wasn’t difficult. Giles happily complied, taking the opportunity to kiss him again. Thomas carried his eager lover into the bedroom and lay him back on the bed. He started to undress him, but Giles stopped him.

“You first,” he insisted. Thomas soon understood this to mean that Giles wanted to undress him. He had to admit that Giles pulling his clothes off was certainly arousing him further. He was already harder than he’d been in many months.

Giles’s eyes shone in the dark, looking up at Thomas.

“Very nice,” he smiled, moving his hands up Thomas’s strong arms to his furred chest, stroking through dense curls occasionally flecked with gray.

“Well, I’m an old man, but I do like to keep fit,” Thomas teased, relieved that Giles didn’t find his more mature body unattractive.

“Sexyyy.” Giles drew the word out. It was the same word, English or German, he knew. He pulled Thomas down for another bout of ever-deepening kisses, tongues stroking each other’s in a slow , erotic dance. Giles unzipped Thomas’s jeans and pushed them down, hands clutching at Thomas’s buttocks and pulling him down as Giles thrust up. They ground against each other in slow, gentle lust until Thomas realized that Giles was still dressed, and he was aware of being hobbled by his half-removed jeans.

“Time out,” he rasped, backing off enough to remove the rest of his clothes. He slipped Giles’s sweater off over his head, and pulled his trousers off, and then his briefs, without yet really allowing himself to look at Giles.

He had undressed Giles before, to put him to bed after drinking too much, or to put pyjamas on him or help him shower, but he’d never really permitted himself to look at Giles’s body in a sexual way before; he hadn’t dared.

His lover surprised him again. While he appeared slim when dressed and one might easily assume not particularly well-developed, Giles’s torso was neatly muscled, as was the rest of him. This was not the body of a gangly, awkward schoolboy but of a young Greek athlete. The quiet grace lying there, looking up at him, brought a lump to his throat.

Giles’s chest was dusted with fine, straight dark hair like that on his arms, thicker on his pubis. When Thomas brushed over the dark arrow leading to his cock, he found it soft as silk. He stroked Giles’s erection firmly, spreading the pre-cum of his arousal over the head and shaft, and he did the same to his own organ. He would probably come quickly, such was his now very carnal desire for the young man who had been his treasured charge for these several months, but he wanted to prolong things a little for Giles.

“Thomasss,” Giles whimpered, his head tossing, moaning softly at the intensity of his arousal. Thomas lay down beside him, leaning over for a kiss as he put his hand between Giles’s legs and squeezed gently, moving his thumb in slow circles. While he opened himself to Thomas, Giles’s body was tight as a bowstring now. A sheen of sweat covered his face and neck.

There was a fine line between pleasure and pain, and Thomas had to hope he knew where it was. He rolled onto Giles and began moving in a steady rhythm, pleasing them both. Giles alternately whimpered, moaned, or made rutting sounds that went straight to Thomas’s cock. Each low grunt brought the older man closer and closer, until he came with a force that surprised him; it had been quite a while since his last time with anyone, or anything but his own hand. It seemed to also surprise Giles, who shuddered with him, and came soon after with a wild cry Thomas would not have imagined coming from shy Giles.  Then Giles’s hands were warm over his shoulders and on his back, softly caressing, kissing his forehead, shyly urging him down.

Thomas relaxed onto Giles, unmoving, his head resting on Giles’s chest. He was utterly content in the feel of Giles beneath him as their breathing slowly returned to normal. There were all sorts of practical things he could urge Giles to do in a few minutes to be ready for his early drive to the airport. He was, after all, the one who led and guided and prodded when necessary. But just now, he didn’t want to be that person. He only wanted to be Giles’s lover, falling asleep in his arms, so he wisely gave himself permission to be just that.

 

                                                                             ***

 

The next morning it was difficult for both of them to realize they wouldn’t see each other for two weeks. It might be less, of course, if things went very badly. While Thomas hoped things would go well, he was going to miss his wild-fawn-turned-young buck terribly. He would have missed Giles’s presence in any case, but knowing that Giles wanted him as much as he wanted Giles now made the departure even more difficult.

Before Giles left him at the departure gate, he stammered out something about hoping he could go through with all he intended, but not being sure he could, and hoping he wouldn’t disappoint Thomas too much if that were so.

“Giles, look at me. Look at me,” Thomas ordered gently. The big, clear brown eyes met his reluctantly. “It is not possible for you to disappoint me in this. That you go at all shows your courage. You can’t make your family accept you and your decisions. They either do or they don’t, and whatever their feelings are does not reflect on you. When you have done what you can, it’s up to them. It’s not that you’re somehow responsible for their feelings or their happiness. Please, try to remember that. Also remember that I’m here, and you can call me at any time if you need to talk to me. All right?” _And I love you, Giles Vicary_ , he added silently.

Giles smiled at him and nodded. They exchanged hugs, and Giles was gone.

 

  
                                                                         ***

 

Thomas waited impatiently for the plane to begin disembarking its passengers. He knew virtually nothing of what had happened during the trip. Giles had only left him a message yesterday with his flight details, although he’d texted a couple of times previously to say that he was all right, and for Thomas not to worry.

Well, he _had_ worried, and now he was nervous. It was his advice and his counsel that had spurred Giles to attempt an understanding with his family. If it had been an unhappy failure, he would feel responsible.

As he finally spied Giles coming down the ramp, his eyes followed his lover across the tarmac. Did he imagine a more confident spring in Giles’s step because he so hoped for it? The stick was gone at any rate; his last stitches had been removed in England.

Thomas stood, waiting for Giles to come through, wondering what sort of greeting there would be. He hoped at most for a light hug or a peck on the cheek. He was delightfully shocked when Giles took a leap at him and nearly knocked him over with a bear hug, followed by a proper kiss on the lips.

“I missed you very much,” he murmured in Thomas’s ear before releasing him and reverting to his more disciplined self.

“I missed you as well, _Schatz_ ,” Thomas assured him, “and I will remember that greeting for a long time.” He was amused to see Giles blush. “Have you any more baggage?”

“Just a couple of things. I’m sorry we’ll have to wait for them.”

“Why be sorry? You’re back now, that’s what matters. A few more minutes? Pah,” Thomas told him with a quick hug.

Thomas knew better than to ask Giles anything about his trip while they waited in the baggage area. That would come later, after a bottle or two of wine and a good meal. Whether it would come before or after sex was a different question. He rather thought it would come after, judging by Giles’s enthusiastic greeting and his fairly cheerful demeanor, and he wasn’t at all sorry about that.

The baggage, besides the carry-on Giles already held, consisted of a smallish lightweight trunk, and a guitar case. Thomas was intrigued. The subject of musical instruments, or indeed very much about hobbies and interests, had not come up between them yet.

When everything was in the boot of Thomas’s car and they were ready to leave, he put a hand on his shoulder and pulled Giles closer to him, bestowing a hungry kiss on soft lips. Giles eagerly drew him in, and they indulged in several minutes of quality ‘snogging time’, as Giles’s colleagues would call it. 

“I have missed you, too,” Thomas huffed, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Shall I take you to your flat?” The sight of Giles’s lips swollen from his kisses made it difficult to keep both hands on the wheel and none on Giles.

“Oh, tomorrow is fine.” Giles looked slightly embarrassed, “Your flat feels like home to me now. Do I stay with you too much?” He asked, a little uncertain. Pulling out into traffic, Thomas squeezed Giles’s knee.

“My home would not feel so much a home any more if you are not there to share it,” he confessed. “So I’m happy if you never leave,” he smiled at Giles.

“You never stop giving to me.” Giles’s voice reflected both love and puzzlement. “I feel as if I haven’t given you anything but a needy grown up child,” he sighed.

“You have given me exactly what I wanted, _liebe_ Giles. Someone to care for and about. Someone to love, who is quite lovable,” Thomas smiled at him, “and who has always been lovable, and stronger than he knew. If I give, I get so much more in return. Relationships move back and forth; one day you need, the next day I might need.”

“I’ll be here.” Giles’s voice was serious. Thomas reached out to brush his fingers over the back of Giles’s neck.

“I know, _Schatz_.”

As he walked into Thomas’s flat, Giles felt as if he’d been away for months…or only a day. Standing there brought home to him that this man was his life. Thomas was exactly what he had always wanted, he was certain of that now.

“Do you want lunch?” Thomas asked him.

“Not in here,” Giles answered, his gaze going towards the bedroom.

“Oho,” Thomas grinned. “All right, then, go on,” he nudged Giles playfully in the back, following behind a moment later.

Giles was surprisingly quick about undressing himself, and then undressing Thomas. There was something of a feverishness to his actions.

“Giles? Is anything wrong?” Thomas asked.

Giles gave him a push backwards onto the bed, then came after him, twining his body tightly with Thomas’s.

“No, nothing’s wrong, don’t worry,” Giles finally replied. “It’s…we’d only just realized we both felt the same, and we’d only just…for the first time - and then I had to go. I thought about you every night. I wanted to be with you, lying with you, doing this…and more,” he told Thomas. “But you weren’t there. Now you are, and I couldn’t wait another minute. I missed what I’d only just found.”

Thomas didn’t have any clever words to reply to such an admission, so he held Giles tight in his arms and whispered every endearment Giles had ever heard in German, and many he hadn’t, into his ear when he wasn’t kissing or nipping said ear, or his neck - or the rest of him.

Their bodies drank in the feel of each other skin to skin, and the smells of soap, sweat and arousal. Their kisses were full of the longing bred of absence as much as they expressed passion. Giles had more control, and Thomas rather less than their last time together. There was less nervousness from Giles, and more serious tenderness than puppy-lust. Thomas could allow himself to feel his own need and want at last.

Giles had changed in some as-yet indefinable way. His touches were more assured. He wanted to please Thomas as much as he wanted to be pleased. A lover who desired him every bit as much as he desired them, and who acted upon it - that was what Thomas had hoped for in Giles, but he’d never been sure it would happen until now. It did not occur to him that _he_ was what had happened to Giles.

As they kissed, Giles stroked slowly across his belly, between his legs, behind his scrotum, and again, before settling on his cock. However long it had been for Giles, it had been for Thomas too. The closeness of being cared about in every way, including this way, he had missed almost as much as Giles had.

When Giles began sucking him, Thomas almost lost it. While he could still think at all, he began to realize that Giles might not be as inexperienced as he had imagined. Thomas shifted so that he could similarly reach Giles, and enjoyed the first musky taste of him. They pleasured each other in slow contentment, neither of them hurrying to obtain release. They needed to learn each other’s bodies and responses, likes and not-likes, and now they had all the time in the world to do it.

Curious and exploring, Thomas moved his hand between Giles’s legs, running a finger between his cheeks, lightly rubbing his thumb across the entrance to his lover’s body. Giles moaned, but didn’t tense or draw away. Thomas repeated the motion, moving gradually from gentle to more insistent, teasing a bit, but with a purpose he was sure Giles was aware of. There was still no withdrawal or hesitation from Giles. Thomas reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a tube of lubricant, making sure that Giles saw it.

“Yes? No? Another time?” Thomas asked softly.

“Yes.” Giles pulled him down for a kiss, then let him go and turned onto his stomach. Thomas bit his tongue to keep from asking or saying anything more. He had to accept that Giles knew what he wanted, and the consequences. He rubbed the gel generously around the pale pink opening, stroking Giles with his other hand.

Giles moaned softly as Thomas’s lubricated fingertip pushed gently, entering him a short way, withdrawing, teasing, slow and tender. Giles exhaled audibly, willing himself to relax, reminding himself it was Thomas.

As Thomas went deeper with longer strokes and added a second finger, Giles groaned louder, but Thomas recognized them not as sounds of discomfort, but of pleasure. Giles was tight, but any man would be who hadn’t participated in a while. How long that while might be, Thomas had no idea. He did understand that Giles didn’t mean for him to know, in any case. This stubborn, even manipulative side to Giles was new to Thomas. It was somewhat amusing for now, but it might get him into trouble one day if he misjudged what he prevaricated about.

When he felt that the rings of muscle were both breached sufficiently that whatever the truth he would not cause Giles great pain, he added more lubrication to his fingers, scissoring slightly inside his young lover, before he withdrew and lubed his cock copiously.

“You will stop me if you need to,” he ordered Giles, hands on his hips, bringing him up and back onto his knees.

“I…want you…inside me. Please. No more - no more delays.” Giles’s voice was low and needy. Thomas pressed into him as slowly as he could until he was nearly all the way in, then he stopped to let Giles’s body adjust. He leaned forward and rubbed his palms over Giles’s nipples. The muffled whine that came in response encouraged him to do it again, somewhat harder. His lover’s body jerked back, impaling himself on Thomas’s cock to its full length. A strangled sharp sound came from Giles’s throat, quickly suppressed. He moved again, deliberately, trying to conquer the discomfort. His body was wet with sweat. Thomas slid a hand down and started a pulling-stroking motion to his cock, and Giles let go a cry of frustration.

“Thomas - fuck me! Fuck me.” It wasn’t begging, and it wasn’t a demand. It was the same lovers’ plea repeated thousands of times in a day, made out of desire and need. Not from an inexperienced, uncertain boy, but from one man to another man.

Thomas leaned in and stroked, maintaining a slow rhythm to Giles’s primal grunts of satisfaction. Those sounds coming from Giles were feeding Thomas’s own desire to claim Giles in a way he hadn’t yet, and to satisfy his own needs. The man he possessed now owned his whole heart, unashamedly.

Thomas pulled Giles back against him so that his back nearly touched Thomas’s chest. He teased Giles’s nipples again, then drew his hands down the toned chest to cock and balls, rougher now, more urgent.

Giles whined, thrusting himself down on Thomas’s cock, harder and faster to match the rhythm of his lover’s hands, further aroused by the sounds of Thomas’s balls hitting his arse. He was already aware he’d overstepped his previous physical experience and there would be repercussions, but surrounded by Thomas in every way, he just didn’t care. Thomas’s cock deep inside him, Thomas’s hands touching him everywhere. Thomas murmuring loving obscenities in his ear. It was too perfect.

Giles came hard. He shuddered, unprepared for the intensity, and then relaxed against the strong body supporting him. He held onto Thomas holding on to him, letting waves of pleasure flow through him. Thomas’s thrusts quickened impossibly and the sounds of his lust made Giles dizzy. When he felt Thomas’s cum spilling into him, he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

Thomas held him, his chin resting on Giles’s shoulder, until his breathing slowed somewhat. He withdrew from Giles slowly, but could not miss the slight moan of pain when he was free of Giles’s body. Gently, he moved to lie down on the bed, bringing Giles with him, cradling the now-limp body of his lover to him. Breathing heavily, Giles curled into Thomas’s embrace.

”So. Perfect.” Giles groaned. “Thomasssss.”

”Yes, you are perfect,” Thomas agreed, stopping Giles’s reply with a kiss.

 

                                                                        ***

 

“ _Liebe_ Giles?”

“Mmmmh?”

“Are you all right?”

“Mmmm.”

“That doesn’t tell me very much and you know it.”

“I want you to do that again,” Giles murmured against his neck, “…in a few days.”

Thomas tsked a little, combing his fingers through Giles’s hair.

“ _Schätzchen_ , what I am I to do with you?”

“Love me,” Giles murmured, winding himself around Thomas.

“I have never done anything else, I think, from the moment I first saw you.”

“In the club?”

Thomas laughed, kissing the top of Giles’s head.

“Oh, no. You think I never noticed you before that night? You had my heart - and other parts of me - beating fast from the first time I saw you with your SIB comrades.”

“ _What_?”

“My sweet, hot Giles,” Thomas confessed, “who I was sure must be straight as an arrow, the beautiful, uptight Englishman. When I saw you in the club, I felt as if prayers had been answered. So…bent uptight English gentleman then. But that last has been taken care of, yes?”

Giles laughed, burrowing closer into his lover, though ‘closer’ was hardly possible.

“You have given me my life back, _liebe_ Thomas. My kind, gentle, so-sexy _Kuschelbär_.”

Giles held his breath. Like most non-Germans, he was uncertain about German pet name conventions. So many of them translated into things he couldn’t imagine uttering in English, yet the Germans took them quite seriously. He was grateful for Thomas’s restraint in this so far. He’d thought about what he might call Thomas, and this fit the way he felt about him and about their relationship. However adventurous their sex life became in future, and as their relationship matured, Thomas would still be Giles’s cuddle bear, whose arms were his safe haven.

Thomas tilted his chin up and kissed him, soft and deep.

“Yes, always,” he assured Giles, smiling.

They both drifted in and out, dozing, until Thomas finally got up. Giles heard him turn on the shower, and in a minute he returned.

“You, up,” he motioned. “In the shower.”

“Not yet, I’m too comfortable,” Giles grumbled, eyeing Thomas sleepily.

“We do not waste the water,” Thomas told him mock-sternly. Without warning he picked Giles up and hoisted him over his shoulder, carrying him into the bathroom and setting him down.

“What the - “ Giles sputtered.

“In.to.the.water,” Thomas insisted. Giles made a face at him and stepped into the oversized shower stall.

The water was hot enough to steam well, and to redden the skin, but it wasn’t unbearably hot. Giles hated to admit it, but the heat felt blissfully good, especially in all those places that were fairly sore already.

Thomas let him have the massaging jets of water to himself for a few minutes before he stepped inside, to Giles’s surprise.

“Not wasting the water, _liebling_ , is two people in one shower,” he explained, as if to a child. Giles rolled his eyes.

“If you’d just said - “

“And where would the fun be in that, hm? You really must trust me, Giles,” Thomas smirked.

“Bastard,” Giles muttered, half-hiding a smile.

“Be nice to me or I won’t wash your back - or your front either.”

“ _Jawohl mein lieber Herr,_ ” Giles surrendered with a grin, handing Thomas the soap.

“Close your eyes.” Giles opened his mouth to protest, but quickly thought better of it and meekly shut his eyes. Thomas proceeded to wash every inch of him, head to toe, but his touch was soothing rather than sensual. It didn’t matter how Thomas touched him, he was learning, it was simply that he was touching him that made Giles happy.

Thomas left the water running, but urged Giles out of the shower.

“While I finish here - no, alone, I don’t trust you at all and I don’t trust me very much either,” he smiled ruefully, “get dressed and we’ll eat, and drink, and talk.”

“You’re right not to trust me,” Giles’s mouth quirked up in a mischievous smile. He seemed to sober, however, with the mention of talk.

Thomas took his time in the shower, and when he came into the kitchen Giles had opened a bottle of wine and put it and two glasses on the coffee table in front of the gas fireplace. It wasn’t cold, so the cozy flames were for atmosphere only. He was finishing up making sandwiches from some roast chicken Thomas had in the refrigerator. He ended by blatantly licking each of his fingers.

“ _Geile Hase_ ,” Thomas shook his head in disapproval, but he put one of those fingers in his own mouth to suck. Loudly.

“You’ve found me out,” Giles shot back with a grin, putting the sandwiches on the table.

Whatever had happened in England, Thomas thought, it couldn’t be that bad if Giles was this happy.

They ate, and finished one bottle of wine and Thomas opened the other. He sat at one end of the sofa and encouraged Giles to stretch out, with his head in Thomas’s lap. Thomas held a glass in one hand, and with his other hand he let his fingers play with Giles’s hair, which he realized was becoming an obsession. Giles was clearly enjoying it as well.

“So…how was England?” Thomas was finally forced to ask.

“Beautiful. Green.”

“Giles.” Thomas pulled his hair a little.

“Ow!”

“How was your talk with your father?”

“A little strange - no, I mean it _was_ strange, I’m not trying to be mysterious,” Giles was quick to add, not wanting his hair pulled again. “When I got out of the car at the house, he fussed over me, and he kept asking me how I was, if I was all right. He - my God, Thomas, he hugged me. He knew I’d been injured and in hospital, he would’ve been told that. But I think someone had given him a copy of my hospital record, or told him what was in it, because he knew about all of my injuries, and how the accident happened.”

“I didn’t do that,” Thomas assured him. He had a pretty good idea who might have, though. Burns took good care of his people, he had observed.

“He also seemed to have been told that my superiors were pleased with my work, and that I was a valued member of my team. Whatever was said made him look at SIB, and my part in it, a little differently I think. I should be upset that someone was discussing me with my father behind my back,” Giles sighed, “but how could I be angry when I know it helped?”

“There are times we should just accept the help we get,” Thomas agreed, once again giving high marks to Kenny Burns for going above and beyond. “So your father is all right with your choice to stay with SIB?”

“ ‘All right’ is a good way to put it. He isn’t happy about it, but I think he understands I can still serve my country doing something different than he or my grandfather did. He’ll leave it alone. I’ll take that,” Giles told him. “And I think maybe now he believes SIB isn’t just for rejects,” he laughed softly.

“That sounds like progress,” Thomas teased wryly. “And the other? Did you tell him?” he prompted. Giles half-sat up, consuming a full glass of wine at one go. Thomas frowned, but he knew that talking about his relationship with his father, and about his sexual orientation, would probably always be difficult for Giles.

“I did. He wasn’t happy, to put it mildly. But my grandfather was there too. He took my father into the library, and they talked a long time. I went a bit mad, imagining the conversation. Then my grandfather came to talk to me.” Giles reached for more wine.

“He said he had soldiers under his command during the war who had a terrible time because they couldn’t be open, or be together. Men were killed or wounded, the other never knowing. Families keeping them away from funerals and from each other, or disowning them. All sorts of cruel things - and prison, military and civilian. He said he felt sorry for them. They were good, brave men. He said he told my father not to throw me away, like those men’s families did. And he said he knew how difficult it was for me to have told him, and that my father should be proud of me for that. I was…well, ‘surprised’ doesn’t cover it. I never would have thought - my _grandfather_ fought for me, about something I imagined he would hardly know about,” Giles marveled. “My father…told me he loved me. It was difficult for him. But my father never says things he doesn’t mean.”

“Sometimes, all the bad things we can worry about turn out not to be true, hm?” Thomas told him, rubbing his shoulder softly. “What else did you tell him?” he asked.

“A lot that would embarrass you, I suppose. He wants to meet you the next time he’s in Berlin,” Giles added with a small grin.

“As long as he comes unarmed,” Thomas joked.

“He said he wanted me to be happy. I told him you made me very happy. He ‘harrumpfed’ at that. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be confronted with certain things, with regard to our relationship. I can understand that. So I’ll have to keep my hands off of you when he comes,” Giles sighed.

“But only then, _mein geiler Hase_.”

“Is that what you’re going to call me?” Giles asked, sounding rather cheerfully resigned to it.

“Not when your father is here. But do remind me not to call you that if I’ve had too much to drink at one of your unit parties,” Thomas teased.

“I will - unless I’ve had too much to drink as well. Then, let the dice fall where they may.”

“Brave words,” Thomas laughed. This more self-assured Giles was going to be fun to tease.

But the conversation of England wasn’t quite finished.

“You saw your mother as well, and your sister and brother?”

“I saw my mother. We had a good visit. Of course, she’s never cared what I did in the Army, or even whether I was in the Army, but she knows what it meant to my father. And she said she sort of knew, about me. I didn’t date, and I had a lot of school friends come to stay when my father was away. She said that if your eyes are open to things you’ll see them, and if your eyes were closed, like my father’s, you won’t.”

“She wanted to know all about you,” Giles told him. “You’ll like each other. I’m not just saying that, it’s because I know you both that I know it’s true,” he insisted.

“Will she also come to visit?” Thomas asked a bit jokingly.

“I know she will - and bring the twins. I spoke to them on the telephone when I was there, but they’re both at university and studying for exams, so I didn’t try to see them. My mother said she would tell them…about us. And bring them with her when she comes.”

“So, you are good with your family then? You have some peace now?” Thomas asked, rubbing Giles’s back.

“You’re my peace, Thomas - but yes, thanks to you. You were right. I feel real now, not a fraud any more,” Giles sighed. He sat up, taking Thomas’s face in his hands, and kissed him with great tenderness. When he finished, he looked Thomas in the eye and whispered “ _Ich liebe dich,_ Thomas. I’m sorry, I should have told you - I should have said it before now.”

“ _Schatzi_ , it’s good to hear whenever it is said,” Thomas smiled. “And you must know I love you too.” He returned the kiss, and encouraged Giles to lay his head on his shoulder.

“What will we do with eight more days to ourselves, hm? I must work some of the time, but even then, we have our evenings, and there is a weekend. You will play that guitar for me?” Thomas asked. “And what is in your trunk?”

“Yes, I’ll play, though I’m very out of practice. And I brought riding clothes, and boots. I thought I might…we might - well, I don’t know if you ride, but I thought I’d take a chance and bring it anyway,” Giles confessed a little sheepishly.

“I’m not very good with horses, only passable, but perhaps you can teach me,” Thomas told him.

“I’d like that,” Giles agreed.

“And on the Saturday night, we can join your colleagues for a beer, before you go back to work.”

“Yes, all right, Thomas,” Giles smiled, “point taken. We will do that. As for the rest of the time, I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he leered.

“I cannot imagine what,” Thomas teased. Giles’s laugh was honest and effervescent. He would become addicted to that laugh, Thomas knew.

“Would you like me to spell it out for you? In detail?”

“Oh, please do, _mein Hase_.”

Giles began whispering in his ear, and in a moment Thomas’s jeans were feeling a bit tight. Yes, the remainder of his leave as planned out by Giles would be very busy, Thomas smiled to himself. ‘Riding’ would apparently be a part of their indoor activities as well.

Getting to know the real Giles, who had been there all along, was going to be a joy that he was more than ready for. Giles believed that Thomas had rescued him, but Thomas knew the truth of who had been saved.    

 

**Author's Note:**

> Why Giles? If you’ve made it here, you pretty much know why I wrote this, don’t you? Yes, you do. Also he’s sweet and adorable and deserves a happy ending story. Why Thomas? Because all the team males but one (Forney) are canon het and in relationships. So Thomas - we know his job, he’s friends with them all, and we know he’s a nice guy, plus kinda hot-looking. Bingo, a Daddy for Giles. Giles’ family is made up, except for the canon Dad history. Favorite paraphrased lines from the series? “His father is a BRIGADIER?!” (Yes, bitch.) “Oh dear, you weren’t rude to him, were you?” Bwahaha!
> 
>  
> 
> [Giles and Thomas](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/825143962954635955/)
> 
>  
> 
> German Lesson:  
> Schöneburg - oldest gay district in Berlin  
> Du kleine Affe - you little monkey  
> geile Hase - horny bunny  
> Herr - sir/Mr  
> Ich liebe dich - I love you  
> jawohl - yes (sir/respectful)  
> Kuschelbär - cuddly bear  
> liebe, lieber, liebling - dear, sweet(ie), -ing - diminutive  
> Mein Gott - my God  
> schätz - treasure, -chen - diminutive  
> suße,Sußer - sweet


End file.
